


(One Way) To Catch a Thief

by alwaysamy



Category: Leverage, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysamy/pseuds/alwaysamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hardison and Parker (Leverage) know Sam Winchester (Supernatural), who sometimes comes to visit. And the three of them get along very, very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(One Way) To Catch a Thief

When Sam is in town, Parker never gets enough sleep.

Well, she doesn't actually plan on getting a lot of sleep, but that's not the problem. It's the bed.

It's a king, but it's still not big enough for three people, two of whom are over-sized. She always winds up in the middle, too, which makes her feel trapped and small and squished, and that's not a nice feeling. Even if she can reach out and touch either hard, smooth male body, or both at the same time, which is a nice feeling.

Feelings are so confusing. Very overrated.

She likes sensation. The rushing freefall down an elevator shaft, the panting, dizzy relief of escaping capture, the immediate swell of warmth and possession when she reaches out to take.

Or the slow gold heat in her bones when they're done fucking. That particular sensation is right up there in the top three.

But when she wakes up much too early, squinting in the first pale light, Hardison's shoulder pressed into one breast and Sam's ankle digging into her calf, that liquid laziness is long gone. That's when it's time to sneak away, curl up on the couch in the living room until a normal hour, like noon, and then let Sam feed her breakfast and Hardison drag her into the shower.

Trouble is, she almost never makes it. Last time she did it bought her three more hours on the sofa, only to find that Sam and Hardison had been fucking for the last hour without her, and it had taken her thirty-seven minutes just to disentangle herself from the two of them and snake out of the bed without waking anybody. None of which was fair.

It's a matter of pride, though. She's a thief. A great thief. She's beaten laser beam systems no one else in the world would even attempt. ("Or anyone in their right mind," Sam reminds her, biting her shoulder neatly. She ignores him.) Getting out of bed shouldn't be such a trial, for pete's sake.

She wriggles experimentally now, sliding her foot away from Hardison's leg. He twitches and sort of grunts, and she freezes. Behind her, Sam snuffles. He sleeps like a fucking cat, one eye open all the time, she swears.

But she waits it out, breathing slow, infinitesimally making herself smaller, curling her body in on itself, away from both of them and inching slowing down the bed.

Well, one inch, anyway. Sam's arm wraps around her, huge palm warm on her belly. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice is sleep rough.

She sighs.

There's a slight chance Sam will nod off again if she lays still and lets him spoon up against her, but Eliot would probably call that chance zilch.

Zilch is a good word. Zilch. Zilllllllch. She repeats it in her mind, waiting to hear Sam's breathing even out again, but it's too late -- Hardison turns over to face her and opens his eyes. "Hey," he says, although it comes out like "heh" because he's yawning at the same time.

"The escape artist was at it again." Sam's voice is a deep rumble against the back of her head, and she makes a face.

"Could put a GPS on her," Hardison says thoughtfully, tracing one nipple with his forefinger.

"You wouldn't," she breathes, and glares when Sam shakes with laughter behind her.

"Gotta make her want to stay." He licks the back of her neck, and she flinches, ticklish, which pushes her right at Hardison.

He slides a hand down her hip, stroking, and she sighs again. So much for a clean getaway. Although she is beginning to forget why she wanted to escape.

"Absolutely," Hardison agrees, and his fingers trail over her hipbone and down in between her legs. God, they do not play fair. There should be rules for this kind of thing, and ... rules.

"The first rule of this bed is there are no rules," Sam whispers, and oh. She didn't mean to say that out loud, but it's getting harder to concentrate with two of Hardison's long fingers inside her and Sam's hard cock nestled against her ass.

"Except maybe the rule where Parker doesn't get to sneak out of it," Hardison says, and wriggles down to find one breast with his mouth.

"Oh," Parker says, and Sam just laughs.

She's not prepared when Sam lifts her top leg and pushes it up over Hardison's thighs. A moment later he's shifting to thrust inside her, and she grabs for anything, sheets, Hardison's shoulder. He grunts when her fingers bite into him, and moves up the bed again, palm braced on her thigh as he slides his cock along her pussy, head glancing off Sam's balls as he rocks.

"Not fair," she manages, throwing an arm back around Sam's neck as his teeth sink into her earlobe, graze her jaw.

"Poor Parker." Hardison rocks closer, his dick sliding easy between her legs. She was still slippery when she woke up, and she's wetter now with Sam inside her, splitting her open and pushing deep. "Such a raw deal."

"It's ... true," Sam agrees between nips to her neck, burrowing, marking her.

Hardison joins him, licking into her mouth, tongue hot and sweet, one hand around her breast, rigid nipple rolled between finger and thumb. Sam's cupping her pussy, fingers easing down to find her clit, circling it easy and just right. Sam grunts every time the leaking head of Hardison's cock strokes his balls, and Hardison is reaching around now to dig his fingers into Sam's thigh. It's like a metronome, perfect, simple back-and-forth that sets the rhythm.

And oh, this sensation is good. Like walking a tightrope or a ledge, shifting and rocking to hit the sweet spot where she won't fall, except this sweet spot is all fall, freefall, the bottom giving out as orgasm rushes up over her.

Hardison's forehead touches hers and Sam's arm tightens around her, and she can't really go anywhere, can barely move, but she's still flying. 

Sam slows the pace to let her come down, and Hardison slips away, stroking her face and her head until she blinks at him, sighing. But then he's reaching around her, slipping a finger into Sam's mouth and murmuring, "Stop. C'mere."

Sam slides free and Parker groans, missing the weight and the heat of him, but she's boneless enough to simply roll onto her back as Sam climbs over her, straddling Hardison. Together, they're miles of smooth, hard muscle, and she wriggles back onto her side, content just to watch them.

Sam bites Hardison's lip hard enough to make him jerk, and Hardison digs his fingers into Sam's hips, pulling him down to grind their cocks together. The whole room smells like her, deep, humid musk, and she shivers a little as they kiss, hips rolling against each other.

"Let me taste it," Hardison says when Sam comes up for air, and Sam flushes hotter, leaning in to bite at Hardison's mouth again before pushing him back on the bed. His knee brushes Parker's hand as he slides up, positioning himself over Hardison's chest and holding his stiff cock out. Hardison opens his mouth, tongue out and flat, and even Parker groans at the sight of him waiting for Sam's cock, which is still sticky with her wetness.

Oh, oh there he goes, sliding in, feeding his cock into Hardison's mouth inch by inch, his thighs trembling slightly as he crouches. Parker slips a hand between her legs, pushing hard, letting the echo of her orgasm hum through her. They're so beautiful together, Sam's hips moving slow and steady, his ass tight and high as he moves, his thigh solid as marble when she reaches out to trail her fingers across it. Hardison's long, smooth throat ripples as he sucks, and she inches closer to lick the salty sheen of sweat off his tense bicep as he curves his arm up to cup his palm around Sam's ass. They move like clockwork, like the most perfectly timed escape, and she shifts her own hips restlessly, grinding down onto her hand.

"Alec," Sam grunts, beginning to shake, and Hardison growls low in his throat. Parker can see his throat relaxing, and Sam starts to fuck his mouth, bracing himself against the headboard. Parker whimpers, wanting it again, and Sam is so big, so hard ...

"Fuck, fuck," Sam groans, and Parker reaches up to lay her hand on his belly, feel the muscles seizing up tight as he comes. Hardison chokes a little, but he closes his eyes and takes it. His mouth is shiny wet now, lips stretched tight, and he grunts when Sam finally pulls out. He doesn't swallow, though, and Parker rolls out of the way when he shoves up, wrestling Sam onto his belly. She's not quick enough, still stupid with pleasure, and Sam's upper body lands on her legs.

"Ow," she protests, but no one's listening, and Hardison is spitting out thick white gobs of spunk on Sam's ass. He crawls up and straddles Sam's thighs, pushing his cock into the crack, smearing it everywhere, and oh, that's dirty, so dirty. Parker grunts a little, too, wriggling her legs, but Sam just grabs her calf and sinks his teeth into it. He's still panting, but he manages to grin at her, slow and just as dirty.

"Oh yeah." Hardison's pumping back and forth, dick sliding easy through the mess, the dark plummy head gleaming and swollen hot.

"We're going to have to shower," Parker says matter-of-factly, and Sam laughs, startled, his shoulders shaking as Hardison rubs himself off. Hardison manages to crack one eye and glare at her, but then he's grinning, too, and starting to shudder, which means he's close. "Nnngh," he groans a second later, and she bites her lip as he shoots, hot and salty all over Sam's back. She levers up on one elbow to swipe a finger through it before Hardison collapses forward, burying his head in the hollow of Sam's shoulder.

Parker smacks her lips when she's licked her finger clean. "Yum."

Sam laughs again, shaky and tired, but he opens his eyes to look at her, and abruptly bucks Hardison off. "Heavy," he says absently, and crawls up to lick into her mouth roughly.

"Mmmph," she manages, and pinches his nipple until he gives her room to breathe. Somewhere behind him, Hardison whimpers, and a moment later his hand appears over Sam's broad back, waving weakly.

"A little help here, huh?"

Sam snorts and rolls off Parker to sit up and pull Hardison into a sitting position. He attacks before Hardison is ready, grabbing his head and pushing his tongue into Hardison's mouth, and suddenly they're like a pair of lions, rolling and batting at each other, biting and kissing and squeezing.

Parker sniffs, and wriggles out of range. "You two are way too athletic in the morning. That's just ... wrong."

Hardison lifts his head and grins, all white teeth. He's got Sam pinned, knees digging into ribs and hands above his head, but Sam isn't exactly fighting too hard. "Wrong, huh?"

"Well, you don't have to play," Sam says soberly, nodding at her as if he understands completely. "We'll let you sleep next time. Take it somewhere else."

And that's not right, either, damn it.

Hardison kisses the pout off her mouth while Sam slips one enormous paw between her legs, stroking gently, and she lets herself go boneless. She can sleep tomorrow.


End file.
